


Eddie My Love

by thevirgins



Series: The Reddie Confession Tapes [1]
Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Awkwardness, First Kiss, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Marijuana, Mutual Pining, No Pennywise AU, Recreational Drug Use, Reddie, Slight Stenbrough, Underage Drinking, everyone is gay? except for like ben, they're like 17, this is super cheesy sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-11 04:34:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12927558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thevirgins/pseuds/thevirgins
Summary: Richie keeps singing the same song around him, and Eddie has no fucking idea what it is. He definitely would never have guessed it was a love song.





	Eddie My Love

**Author's Note:**

> hello this is based on "eddie my love" by the teen queens  
> i highly recommend you listen to it before reading this; it's a good motown song from the 50s 10/10  
> i love my gay sons and this is very gay (like myself)  
> pls enjoy and feel free to leave a kudos or something of the like ;)

The first time he heard it, he simply attributed it to Richie's hyperactivity and penchant for singing and quickly forgot about it.

They had been studying in the library after school on Friday. Of course, "studying" actually meant Eddie futilely attempting to read over his notes as Richie sought every opportunity to distract and annoy him. On top of his boisterous personality, Richie had become a major distraction to Eddie for other (gayer) reasons. Ever since freshman year and Eddie's discovery of the sheer amount of gay that existed within his small body, "studying" has also meant Eddie sneaking looks up at Richie every few minutes, occasionally catching the other teen looking back at him before both blushed furiously and bent their heads back down.

It wasn't his fault he'd fallen in love with Richie Tozier. In fact, he would insist he'd only fallen because of how relentlessly present Richie was in his life, constantly bugging him and purposely getting on his nerves, with his fucking disgusting mom jokes and terrible voices and frankly _awful_ nicknames. (Eddie would never admit just how much he actually loved these little things that made Richie so, well,  _Richie_.)

Eddie was abruptly ripped from his fantasies when the other teen began to hum. This in it of itself wasn't a rare occurrence-Richie was always listening to music. However, Eddie didn't recognize this song as The Cure or Talking Heads, or any other of Richie's typical favorites. It was slower, softer, almost jazzy. Eddie's eyes drifted up to him. Richie began tapping his pencil on the table-he was constantly restless-and bobbing his head, seemingly in his own world. 

As Eddie scoured his brain for any semblance of recognition of the melody, Richie suddenly caught his eye and instantly quieted, his hum cracking and breaking into a cough. His cheeks pinked, making his freckles stand out in contrast. He looked like a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar. Eddie immediately stored Richie's frankly adorable expression into his mental file full of the things he loved about Richie. 

Just as soon as he had silenced, Richie blurted out in barely a whisper, earning a subtle glare from the librarian. "Why the fuck're you staring at me like a total creepazoid, Eds?" 

It was Eddie's turn to blush, quickly deflecting with a "Don't call me that, asshole." 

"Can't say your mom's never looked at me like that, except usually she does it because I'm so deep-"

"Shut the fuck up, Richie!" Eddie leaned over the table and smacked Richie's arm, earning a fake groan of pain, a smirk, and another glare from the librarian. 

Eddie huffed, trying (and failing) to hide a smile as he looked back down at his Chem notes, pretending not to feel Richie's gaze on him or the heavy beating of his heart.

* * *

The second time he heard it, he wasn't supposed to. 

The Losers were hanging out at Bill's that night, but Eddie headed over to Richie's first to return a hoodie he'd borrowed a while back. (He couldn't pretend he didn't desperately want to keep it, but Richie had specifically asked if he used it to jack off with, so he decided it was high time to return it. However, he did manage to convince himself he couldn't simply return it  _at_ Bill's party and so had to meet up with Richie before.)

After knocking four times and waiting for five minutes, Eddie let himself in. It was no secret the Tozier residence wasn't the most close-knit or loving community, but Eddie didn't like to imagine Richie feeling lonely or neglected. He shook those thoughts out of his head and soldiered on. He called out for Richie twice before hearing the shower running upstairs. Eddie's heart rate immediately picked up at the thought of Richie cleaning himself, possibly even...  _naked_.

He took a deep breath, refusing to take out his inhaler over something so stupid, and started up the stairs. As he neared the top, he heard the muffled rumblings of Richie's voice from within the bathroom. He couldn't place the song, but it sounded nice in Richie's voice. Everything sounded nice in Richie's voice. Eddie couldn't quite make out any of the words, but the general tone of it made something warm and bubbly spring up in his chest.

He shook his head, cursed himself for being a sap, and rapt heavily against the bathroom door. He heard a slight squeak from within (accompanied by a painful tugging on Eddie's heart) and the dropping of a soap bottle (likely being used as a microphone). Eddie tried to stifle a laugh before speaking up, raising his voice a bit to be heard over the running water.

"It's me, you dipshit. I brought your nasty ass hoodie. I swear, I washed it ten times but it still smells like smoke and weed and general grossness."

"Fuck, give a guy some warning, Kaspbrak! I'll be out in a minute," Richie yelled back. A few seconds passed, filled only by the noise from the shower. Eddie made to walk away before hearing a mumble that sounded distinctly like "Has to smell better than your mom's vagina."

Eddie simply scoffed, rolled his eyes, and headed over to Richie's mess of a room. 

* * *

The third time he heard it, he was high as fuck. 

They'd finally made it to Bill's, only to find Bev at the front door with a beautiful display of pot brownies. Richie beamed at her, his usual response to weed, before excitedly whispering a sincere thanks to her, which was somewhat less usual. Eddie shrugged it off and happily grabbed a brownie and headed to Bill's room, soon followed by Bev and Richie. Edibles were his preferred method of getting high, as he always coughed up a lung anytime he tried to smoke. There had been the one time Richie had shotgunned with him, and that had undeniably been the best five seconds of his life, but it hasn't happened again. (He thinks it has something to do with the fact Richie had to excuse himself to the bathroom for five minutes without explanation, a deep blush coloring his cheeks and pillow held in front of his crotch.) 

Eddie walked into Bill's room to find the other Losers in various stages of inebriation. Mike and Ben were only drinking, staying away from weed for fear of the drug tests that always accompanied football season. Bill and Stan were wrapped up together on Bill's bed, clearly already on their way to faded, brownie crumbs littered across the covers. However, they all looked up when Eddie entered and cheerfully greeted him, doing the same soon after to Bev and Richie. 

Eddie curled up on Bill's rug, leaning against the bottom of his bed, and Richie soon joined him. Eddie briefly noticed Bev making her way over to Mike and Ben, sitting down right in Ben's lap and nearly giving him a heart attack. Eddie quickly got to unwrapping the plastic covering his brownie when he saw Richie was already wolfing down his. 

"So, what's the plan for tonight, chaps?" Richie inquired in a vaguely British accent as he licked the crumbs of his fingers. Eddie scrunched up his nose at that. Bev pointedly cleared her throat, to which Richie dutifully added, "and chap-ette, of course."

Bill piped up from his spot on the bed, "I was thinking m-maybe we could p-play some games, or something."

"Or maybe we could eat everything in your house, Bill. I'm _dying_ ," Stan moaned from next to Bill.

Eddie heard chuckles and a muffled "shut the f-fuck up, you j-j-just have the munchies"  from the bed and glanced up to see Stan and Bill snorting and gently slapping each other. So they were definitely already at least slightly fucked up. He felt a dopey smile creep up on his face at their antics, only to be quashed by his feelings of jealousy at their obviously close relationship.

"God, you guys are so fucking gay," Bev called out from her spot on Ben's lap.

Stan and Bill both flipped her off, the latter blushing profusely, and Stan retorting, "Like you can fucking talk! You're the epitome of stereotypical lesbian. Short hair, no makeup, tomboy, cigarette smoker, and a fucking stoner." He counted off his fingers as he said this, pleased to find he listed exactly five things, until his face lit up in realization. "Oh, and also gay for every single cheerleader!"

Bev laughed out loud as the others dissolved into giggles. Eddie glanced over at Richie just as he began feeling lightheaded to find him already smiling back.

They all ended up in a circle hours later, smashed together on Bill's bed, the now empty plate of brownies in the center and music playing from Bill's stereo. Stan had ended up in Bill's lap at the headboard, the latter lazily tracing his fingers along Stan's arms. Mike and Ben were heavily leaning on each other, their empty bottle of cheap vodka thrown carelessly on the floor. Bev was lying on her back, her torso bending over the edge of the bed. Eddie had managed a spot at the headboard next to Stan and Bill and currently had Richie's head in his lap, the taller boy sprawled out across the length of the bed, legs resting next to Bev's. 

"Okay but hear me out: what if there are little tiny bugs controlling us from inside our brains?" Richie broke the silence and received an outburst of laughter from everyone. Eddie reveled in the vibrations that ran through his body from Richie's voice. "No, fuckin' seriously! Like, like, what if there are little bugs in our minds that make us kill other bugs to fuel their fucking genocide or something?!" Everyone took a minute to ponder this.

"Fuck, my mom'll kill me if she finds out bugs live in my brain," Eddie blurted.

Richie shifted his head to look at him, a stupid grin on his face. Eddie felt his own face warm and his throat constrict, and he had to look away from Richie to preserve his manly dignity.  _Dignity. Dig-nit-tee? Dig-nit-tit! Hah._ He snorted at his own thoughts and glanced around at the other losers, absentmindedly running his fingers through Richie's curls.

He couldn't see Bev's face because of her position, but she was reaching up toward the ceiling with her arms as if trying to grab something. Mike and Ben looked ready to fall asleep on each other, the latter hiccoughing every few seconds and the former doodling what looked like penises on Ben's arm with a pen. Stan and Bill looked to be in their own world: staring at each other with wide eyes while gently touching each other's face. 

Eddie was brought out of his reverie by more vibrations coming from his lap. He looked down to find his fingers in the hair of a very contented Richie who had just started singing under his breath. He was horribly off-key, but Eddie still found it dazzling.  

" _You left me last September, to return to me before long... But all I do is write myself to sleep..."_

Eddie prodded at Richie's face to get his attention, a feat he achieved only after five pokes. He leaned down slightly and whispered, "What song's that, Rich?" 

Richie stared back up at him, his eyes slightly unfocused from the weed, their noses inches apart. "Some shitty old song I heard the other day." He quickly broke eye contact with Eddie. 

"I like it." 

Richie blushed a deep red and opened his mouth as if to reply when Bev suddenly shot up and asked who wanted to raid the kitchen with her. Richie happily volunteered himself and almost ran out of the room. Eddie was left confused, and his hazy mind couldn't process what just happened. He shrugged it off when Mike, in desperate need of a good nap, asked to switch spots.

* * *

The fourth time he heard it, he thought he dreamed it. 

It was about two in the morning when Richie and he headed downstairs to the pullout in need of a comfortable sleeping spot. The five other Losers were still all snuggled up in Bill's bed, but Eddie couldn't take the claustrophobia anymore. Richie had woken as soon as Eddie slipped out from his spot next to him and insisted on coming with. 

Both still a little high, they fumbled in setting up the pullout couch properly, only to collapse onto it in exhaustion after figuring it out. Richie grabbed a blanket off the floor and threw it over the two of them, and they quickly fell into a deep slumber. 

After what seemed both like an eternity and only seconds later, Eddie awoke on his side to the soft sound of Richie singing from behind him. He was still half-asleep, but he could recognize the now familiar song of Richie's choice. However, he was finally singing the lyrics with some coherence.

_"Eddie, my love, I'm sinking fast. The very next day might be my last. Please, Eddie, don't make me wait too long..."_

Richie's voice was scratchy from sleep, but Eddie could hear his own heart pounding in his ears at how beautiful he sounded. After a minute or so more of the song, Richie quieted and eventually started snoring. Eddie reluctantly fell back asleep, dreams of Richie serenading him plaguing his mind. 

He woke up again hours later to Bill cooing at the two of them, to which he threw a pillow at Bill's face and stuck out his tongue. Richie snuffled next to him, and Eddie blushed as he remembered his vivid dreams about the other teen.

He went up to brush his teeth, bumping into Bev on the stairs. She smiled warmly at him. 

"You know... he specifically asked me to bring brownies since you hate smoking." She winked at him and went on her way to the kitchen. 

Eddie had absolutely no idea how to respond to this, heat rising up his neck, and his heart fluttering in his chest. He ducked his head and continued up to the bathroom.

* * *

The fifth time he heard it, he had a mental breakdown. 

At around eleven in the morning, the Losers agreed to bike over to the local diner for some much needed nourishment. 

They all piled into Bill's car, packed in like sardines. Eddie ended up on Richie's lap, a situation he deemed both a blessing and a curse. A blessing, because he was fucking  _sitting on Richie's lap_. A curse, because Richie kept tickling his sides and breathing on his neck to tease him. He accidentally let slip a high-pitched shriek at Richie's fingers brushing his ribs and immediately cursed himself. 

"Aw, Eds! You're so fucking cute, it's ridiculous." Richie pinched his cheeks, and Eddie huffed in annoyance and twisted around to face Richie, only somewhat taking note of how intimate their position was. 

"Don't fucking do that!" He sent Richie his most withering glare, but the smile on his face really diminished its impact. 

Eddie turned back around to see all the other Losers smiling knowingly at them. Even Bill was staring at them in the rearview mirror, a smirk playing on his face. Eddie turned bright red and resolutely stared out the window for the rest of the car ride.

After finally arriving at the diner, the Losers all slipped into the corner booth, the only circular one that was big enough to seat all of them. Eddie ended up on the edge with Richie to his right. As they waited for a server to get their orders, Mike got up from his spot and headed over to the jukebox.

"My dad used to always play a song on these whenever he saw one," Mike elaborated with a happy look upon his face.

"Nerd," Richie fondly whispered under his breath so only Eddie could hear him. Eddie elbowed him with no real heat. They all quietly watched as Mike sifted through the various song selections.

"Woah, holy shit, Eddie! This one's about you!" Mike suddenly exclaimed. 

Eddie turned his body outward to better address Mike. "What are you talking about?"

"This song's called 'Eddie My Love.' C'mon, we gotta see what a love song about Eddie sounds like, don't we?" 

Everyone but Eddie and Richie eagerly nodded in agreement. Mike took little notice and selected the song, sitting back down afterwards. As the record slipped into place, Eddie turned back to look at Richie to gauge his reaction. However, he was shocked to find Richie staring down at his lap and fidgeting with his fingers and a piece of thread. His mop of dark hair hung in his face, and Eddie couldn't make out his expression. Before he could question Richie, the song filtered out from the jukebox, piano and horns introducing it. 

Eddie almost instantly recognized it. It was Richie's song.

Furrowing his brow, he stared more intently at Richie as the lyrics began. 

_Eddie, my love, I love you so. How I wanted for you, you'll never know. Please, Eddie, don't make me wait too long._

Eddie felt his mouth drop open. He distantly acknowledged the other Losers' reactions, but he was only focusing on how Richie refused to look at him or even acknowledge what was currently happening.  _Why has Richie been singing this?_ Eddie pushed out intrusive thoughts of  _maybe he likes you, too_ because really, Richie Tozier liking him back? How the fuck?  _No, he probably just heard this on the radio or something, and it's been stuck in his head. It's a pretty catchy song._

_Eddie, please write me one line. Tell me your love is still only mine. Please, Eddie, don't make me wait too long._

Richie slowly raised his head to look back at Eddie, and Eddie was shocked to find fear and apprehension written across his face. He took note of Richie's maroon cheeks and ears. Richie bit his already chewed-up lip, and the motion drew Eddie's gaze. He snapped his eyes back a second later to find Richie now staring at him with wonderment. Before he could question him, the server appeared, and Eddie turned away from Richie.

Eddie absentmindedly ordered waffles and a root beer float to share with Richie, like he always did. Surprisingly, Richie didn't order anything himself. In fact he remained completely silent. Eddie made to turn back around to face him after the server left, but Richie abruptly stood up and edged past Eddie out of the booth, exiting the diner with some excuse of "needing fresh air." 

Variations of "what the fuck" came from each member of the group, except for Bev. Eddie made eye contact with her and saw her mouth  _"go after him"_ silently. Eddie gulped and resolutely nodded, quickly standing up and following Richie's path. 

Unsurprisingly, Eddie found Richie leaning against the side of the diner, smoking a cigarette. At the sight of Eddie, Richie snuffed out the cigarette with his boot. The thoughtfulness of the gesture swelled Eddie's heart, but Richie still wouldn't meet his eyes.

"You wanna tell me what that was about, Rich?"

Richie glanced at him before shrugging in what he seemed to think was a nonchalant manner.

"Cut the shit, Tozier. You've been singing that song constantly since yesterday. What's your issue?" Eddie stepped closer to him, begging him to open up.

Richie sighed and visibly swallowed. "I, uh..."

 _Wow._ Richie Tozier: speechless. They stood in silence for a minute, Eddie staring earnestly at Richie as the latter tried to avoid his gaze.

"You know, I really do like the song. If you're embarrassed because it's like, "not cool," don't be. It's good. Just because it isn't some awful rock band doesn't mean you have to inherently hate it, you know." Eddie stepped forward again, now close enough he had to crane his neck to look into Richie's eyes.

"Of course I fucking know that. That's not-" Richie sighed in frustration, rubbing a hand over his face. "You know I couldn't give a fuck what people think about me, Eds." 

"Well then, what's your fucking problem?" Another step forward. He ignored the nickname, his voice raising. 

"You are!" Richie yelled, almost as if by reflex, finally looking Eddie in the face. 

Eddie's brain short-circuited.  _What?_   _What the fuck?_   "What the _fuck_ do you mean by that?"

"Because to me, that song  _is_ about you! Don't you get it?" Richie was nearing hysterical at this point, eyes wild. "It's always been you, Eds. God, I'm so fucking gay." He wiped his eyes roughly. 

Meanwhile, Eddie was silently having an aneurysm. He stared in silence at Richie for at least thirty seconds, trying and failing to process his words, mouth opening and closing like a fish. "You... you... gay?"

Richie let out a hearty but pained laugh at this. "Yes, Eds, 'I gay.' For you, specifically."

Another step forward. Richie was about a head taller than Eddie, but they were only a few inches apart now.  _If Richie could just bend down..._  "D-don't call- wait. 'For me?'"

"Oh my fucking- Eds." Richie gave up on his explanation and instead slowly bent down to Eddie's level, forehead against forehead, breath intermingling, lips tingling. Richie brought up a cold, shaky hand up to Eddie's burning face. The contrast made him flinch imperceptibly. Richie quietly sighed and closed his eyes before closing the distance between them, his lips upon Eddie's in a featherlight touch.

In that exact instant, everything fell into place in Eddie's mind. Richie attempted to pull away after a moment, but Eddie grabbed the back of his neck and drew him back in, fervently kissing him back this time. Richie groaned into the kiss, grabbing Eddie's hips to pull him closer.

 _Holy fuck. Holy fuck?_ Going completely on instinct, Eddie ran his fingers through the short curls at the nape of Richie's neck, earning a tantalizing whimper. Eddie gasped at the noise, mouth opening enough for Richie to slip his tongue along Eddie's lips. Eddie never thought touching tongues could be so appealing, but hey, he was wrong a lot of the time. They made out for a good few minutes before Eddie pulled back with an emphatic " _fuck,'_ " dropping his hands from Richie's hair as if he'd been burned. Richie's dazed expression turned terrified, and he began to apologize, straightening up to give Eddie space.

Seeing the worry in Richie's eyes, Eddie interjected, "No, no, the kissing was good! Great! Totally radical. But we do live in a super homophobic town and could very literally get killed if we keep making out in public. So." Eddie was panting, partly from the word vomit that just spilled out of him, and partly because he just made out with  _Richie Fucking Tozier._ With  _tongues._  Richie had kiss-bitten lips, and his pupils were blown wide. Eddie knew he couldn't look any better. 

Richie pouted, "But all I wanna do is give my adorable Eddie Spaghetti more 'totally radical' kisses." 

Eddie punched his arm. "Shut the fuck up, and don't call me that." He quickly glanced around before getting up on his tiptoes and pressing a quick peck to Richie's cheek, pleased to see his responding shock and blush. 

"Eddie, my love, you will surely be the death of me," Richie whispered in a simpering British accent. Eddie simply rolled his eyes, raising his arm to shove at Richie. Before he made impact with his shoulder, Richie grabbed his hand and pulled him close again. "You know I love you, right? I mean, not quite as much as your mother loves my di-"

"Beep fucking beep, Richie." Eddie debated with himself for a moment before adding "I kinda love you too, asshole." The beam on Richie's face was worth all the mom jokes in the world. 

* * *

 The 431st time he heard it, he was 30 and wearing a tux and a golden band.

Richie, clad in a matching tux and ring, held out his hand for him, smiling down at his new husband. Eddie gratefully accepted and followed him onto the floor, excited for their first dance. 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you much for reading


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